LVII ; hagrid's tale

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            THOUGHTS OF FRED, GEORGE, AND HARRY GETTING BANNED FROM QUIDDITCH WERE GONE AS ELARA, HARRY, RON, AND HERMIONE RAN TO HAGRID'S HOUSE. they crept through the portrait hole and covered themselves hastily in the cloak — ron had grown so much he now needed to crouch to prevent his feet showing — then, moving slowly and cautiously, they proceeded down the many staircases, pausing at intervals to check the map for signs of filch or mrs. norris. they were lucky; they saw nobody but nearly headless nick, who was gliding along absentmindedly humming something that sounded horribly like "weasley is our king." they crept across the entrance hall and then out into the silent, snowy grounds. with a great leap of her heart, elara saw little golden squares of light ahead and smoke coiling up from hagrid's chimney. she set off at a quick march, the other three jostling and bumping along behind her, and they crunched excitedly through the thickening snow until at last they reached the wooden front door; when harry raised his fist and knocked three times, a dog started barking frantically inside.

            "hagrid, it's us!" harry called through the keyhole.

            "shoulda known!" said a gruff voice.

            they beamed at one another under the cloak; they could tell that hagrid's voice was pleased. "bin home three seconds . . . out the way, fang . . . out the way, yeh dozy dog . . ."

            the bolt was drawn back, the door creaked open, and hagrid's head appeared in the gap.

            hermione screamed.

            "merlin's beard, keep it down!" said hagrid hastily, staring wildly over their heads. "under that cloak, are yeh? well, get in, get in!"

            "i'm sorry!" hermione gasped, as the four of them squeezed past hagrid into the house and pulled the cloak off themselves so he could see them. "i just — oh, hagrid !"

            "it's nuthin', it's nuthin'!" said hagrid hastily, shutting the door behind them and hurrying to close all the curtains, but hermione continued to gaze up at him in horror.

            hagrid's hair was matted with congealed blood, and his left eye had been reduced to a puffy slit amid a mass of purple-and-black bruises. There were many cuts on his face and hands, some of them still bleeding, and he was moving gingerly, which made elara suspect broken ribs. it was obvious that he had only just got home; a thick black traveling cloak lay over the back of a chair and a haversack large enough to carry several small children leaned against the wall inside the door. hagrid himself, twice the size of a normal man and three times as broad, was now limping over to the fire and placing a copper kettle over it.

O, CURSED CHILD. ﹙ harry potter ﹚Where stories live. Discover now